


Mistletoe

by jeurfleur



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Romance, Underage - Freeform, bort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 19:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeurfleur/pseuds/jeurfleur
Summary: Bob and Bart meet under the mistletoe. But things are never simple with either of them.





	Mistletoe

A party at the home of mr and mrs Flanders always impress, and their holiday soirees especially so, since their neighbors are annually invited along with the higher end community. The Simpsons all react in their own way as they do every year. Marge and Homer both pretend to relate and mingle with the other adults, Marge more successfully that Homer, before admitting failure and retiring to their respective sexed drinking corners. Lisa attempts to engage in conversation only to admit that nobody is really listening. And Bart wanders along the outer rim, nothing to interest him but also nothing to occupy him. He tries to resist that mischievous urge, but honestly no one expects that to hold out.

The afternoon wore away in this fashion until someone shouted a suggestion that everyone go caroling. Mostly inebriated, the room responded with approval. As the living room full of drunk parents filed out into the street lit cold, each was seen making arrangements for overnight babysitters over the phone. Marge, not wanting to miss out on a rare social occasion, nudged Homer worriedly. Theres were the only children at the actual party, and Homer’s father, who was watching Maggy, wouldnt be able to stay up much longer. In Fact he was probably already asleep. Homers bleary eyes scanned the room for a likely sucker. 

At the open bar was Bob. Flanders was many things to Bob, and the only positive one was a source of quality wine. He sighed, glancing at the bartender rushing away with the crowd. He shrugged, not missing the brief conversation on candy cane flavored syrup they had been having. Social interaction was just a collateral for not feeling alone and sober this time of year after all. Even in a room filled with high class, educated socialites he was oil in the water. Perhaps at one time he would have thrived there, but as time wore on he realized that he never truly enjoyed the people, but the power that he held over the powerful. Without his past ambitions, the room might as well be empty. Pouring himself another glass, Bob swivelled his stool around to bask in the empty parlor, and let the terrible, terrible christmas music wash over him.

About two years of his life were taken from Bob as he met with the glazed eyes of Homer Simpson nearly directly in front of his face. Bob yelped and nearly dropped his wine, and before he could really catch his breath, Homer had his hand on Bob’s shoulder. 

“Hiyah Bill, say, how’d you feel about sleeping over at our place? Itd save you bus fare home, whatdyah say?” Homer slurred his words out. Bob, shuddering privately over the unwanted contact, gently picked Homer’s hand off of his shoulder. He didnt feel like correcting his name, since Homer would just get it wrong again. And besides, even if he did get the name wrong Homer had the right person. In fact, Bob and the Simpsons family had been on fairly good terms since Bob’s change in heart. He would always be astounded at the family’s ability to let the water fall off their back after life threatening disaster.

“Oh Bob dont mind him” Marge said, standing behind her husband. “We just need someone to watch the kids overnight. Youde really just have to put them to bed and continue your night in the living room.” She reached over the counter and plucked a bottle of gin, sliding it Bob’s way. He appreciated Marge’s bluntness, and picked up the gin, along with the peppermint syrup. 

“Of course ill watch the children simpsons” he said. “Please, go and enjoy yourselves this glowing winters night.” Marge took Homer’s hand since he seemed to have forgotten what walking was, and dragged him away, thanking Bob and waving goodbye. Bob tucked the bottle into his jacket and scanned the room for Lisa and Bart.

Bart lurked in the kitchen, distancing himself from the party. Temptation had begun pulling him towards the combination turntable and fireplace, when he had noticed Bob near the bar. Without really thinking Bart was already headed in the opposite direction. He could feel his cheeks glowing red and didnt want to explain to anybody why. Ever since the two had hugged that day, making peace, they had seen a lot of each other, and sometimes they hugged goodbye. 

Bart had been noticing that Bob hugged a bit tight, not that Bart minded. The affection felt good, he felt that he and Bob shared a certain honesty now. Every once in a while they would share a glace, and silently acknowledge that neither one of them felt quite comfortable around a lot of strangers. At first Bart feared the glances to be murderous, but after some time he noticed a slight blush on Bob’s face. Bart himself would then also blush and both of them would turn away immediately. This had gone one for months at that point, and Bart was finding it difficult to ignore that blush. He been holding his teddy bear under the covers, and unconsciously kissing it in his sleep. Upon waking up he would immediately try to deny who he had been dreaming about. 

In his daydream, bart touched his fingertips to his lips. Without really thinking, he wandered towards the swinging doors of the kitchen, and immediately found his rear end hard on the ground after bumping into someone big. Rubbing his butt, Bart looked up to see Bob, directly in front of him. They met gazes for what seemed to be minutes, before Bob’s eyes flickered up. Bart followed his gaze and saw a clump of emerald mistletoe hanging above the kitchen doorway. Bart pondered the shiny red berries stark against the leaves, and touched his fingers back to his lips, letting the soft of his fingerprints trace along the sensitive soft tips of his mouth.Soon however, remembering what had just happened, Bart’s eyes returned to their upright positions.

There was Sideshow Bob, red as a tomato from head to torso. 

“Uhm….Bart” Bob mumbled standing up, quickly turning about, looking to see if anyone saw. Bart could see a bit of sweat on his forehead. Bart, understood and stood up quickly.

“Ill be...uhm...we need to head out Bart, I told your parents id watch you kids while they stay out longer.” Bob turned to leave, but Bart reached out and grasped Bob’s hand before walking alongside him. Bob’s body jolted, his heart thumped a bit louder for a millisecond. Like his system had blown a fuse and had to reboot. 

Neither of them looked at the other as they and Lisa walked the short way to the Simpson house. Inside grandpa Simpson was indeed asleep already, with Maggy watching an infomercial for precious moments figurines. Bob let go of Bart’s hand and bid both the older children to go on up to bed while he put grandpa and the baby to bed. Bart ran up the stairs without looking back, and Bob stared after him, a look of regret washed over him. 

After clearing the living room, and failing to find the remote, Bob sat on the couch and sipped on his peppermint gin. He knead his brow in frustration, and after a short time after losing patience with the infomercial channel, he clicked the tv off and laid himself down on the couch. The winter still darkness wrapped about him, laid down on him while his brain still burned with a sleepy dying flame.

This life wasnt great. His highs were gone but so were the lows. He wasnt excited about his future, all the things that used to that felt bad now. But he felt a certain satisfaction in knowing he was in control of his life. Unfortunately, the times when he feels most warmly alive are when he feels connected to Bart. However, with Bart there was a gravity, and to orbit that gravity will eventually… 

“If people hated you before, what will they do if…” Bob allowed the heavy dark fill his brain and eventually dozed off. At one point he dreamed he heard a crash, but the void closed back in again. 

Bob was jolted awake. He heard a loud rhythmic rumbling, and felt a hard vibration with every rumble. As his eyes adjusted he saw the dim ceiling moving, lurching away, and heard a soft grunt. Either the peppermint gin had given him a drunk dream, or someone was moving the couch. Bob decided to let things play out, because honestly he didnt feel his aching head would allow otherwise. Eventually the shifting stopped, and Bob could barely make out the archway of a door, then, to his surprise, Bart’s face came into view looming over Bob in the dark. 

His words would’t come. All he could do is make low murmur sounds, gutturally pleading for reason like he was underwater. Looking past Bart, he thought he saw something glimmering in the moonlight coming from the kitchen window. He managed to piece out that it was the shiny berries of mistletoe. His gaze returned to Bart, who even in the dark he could tell was blushing. He returned in kind. 

Very slowly, Bart lowered his head, his lips rested on Bob’s, and Bob’s anxiety and confusion evaporated in the heat inside his head. As Bart pulled away, he looked a bit surprised, and licked the peppermint taste off his lips. Bob, now thoroughly enthralled, raised his hand and cupped Bart’s face. Bart returned the gesture and they shared in each others acknowledgement through the cold moonlight. 

Too soon, the two heard the carolers tune nearly just outside the front door. Quick as a flash, Bart ducked away, and Bob felt the couch quickly get shoved back in place. He shot up in his seat, and glimpsed Bart hesitate at the top of the stairs and give Bob another blushed look before vanishing like a sprite.

“Homer youve gotta help me here, my love for you can move mountains, but it cant carry you” Marge helped Homer next to Bob on the couch. 

“Oh my Bob, youre awake. Did anything happen? The Flander’s came home to a broken window” Bob furrowed his brow and firmly shook his head. 

In the days leading to christmas, Bob spent more time at the Simpson’s. His and Bart’s glances had been turning to gazes, and faces turned to secret smiles. Avoiding each other at parties had turned to (very) long walks together. Marge also had a harder time all of a sudden keeping candy canes in the house this year. Someone was eating them all.


End file.
